heartstrings
by theeflowerchild
Summary: Two-shot. "Do you love me, Sasuke-kun?" she questioned softly. "I cannot, your highness." He sighed loudly, disappointed. "I didn't ask if you could or you could not," her voice became stern, sure, "Do you love me, Sasuke-kun? Like I love you?" He pursed his lips. "More than anybody will ever allow you to know." The story of a pauper and his Princess.
1. part one

She will remember their first meeting like her first kiss, first love, first scare.

He is twelve, he is beautiful. He is growing; puberty is blossoming in his height and stature, muscles are forming along his skinny arms and slowly, but surely aging torso. He is still young, eyes wide with innocence, ebony with wisdom, skin below pulled and tinted lavender from lack of sleep and extensive hours of work. He is so pale, she feels if his skin were to be kissed by the sun, he would simply melt away, forgot with the many moons. His hair is messy, littered lightly with dirt, fringe covering an equally dirty forehead. He is aristocratic, with a thin nose, taut, white lips and high cheek-bones she only wished she could have. He is a worker.

"Sakura-chan," her mother prompted her forward with a push, "This is Sasuke. He will take care of you. He will watch you."

She cocked her head to the side, cotton-candy-colored hair falling over her shoulder and into her swollen eyes. "Sasuke-kun will be my friend?"

"Not quite," her mother explained. "Sasuke is like Shizune."

She nodded, only slightly understanding. Her eyes flickered to the holder woman beside her mother, Shizune, with the big, cream-colored eyes and the warm smile. "Sasuke-kun is... a maid?"

Her mother shook her head again, chuckling at the expression that surfaced on the young boy's face. "Not quite, either... Sasuke is a boy."

"Sasuke-kun..." she tested the name on her lips, clicking her tongue against her—still baby—bottom teeth. "Sasuke-kun is my helper. Is that right?" she asked her mother, hope gleaming in her big, emerald eyes.

"Yes," her mother decided, "Sasuke is your helper. Sasuke will watch you and in return, our maids will watch him. Do you understand?"

She nodded furiously. "Of course, mother." She took another wary step forward toward the slightly dirty boy, offering him a grin and curtsey, just like her mother had taught her. "My name is Sakura Haruno, Sasuke-kun."

He raised an eyebrow in question—_why on earth is royalty bowing to me?—_and bowed deeply, properly, perfectly. "It is the deepest honor to meet you, your highness. Thank you for allowing me to serve you."

She giggled lovingly, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. Her mother's servant gasped, ready to remove the girl, but her mother thrust a hand in her way, allowing the scene to unfurl between her daughter and the help. "Please, Sasuke-kun, call me Sakura."

* * *

**heartstrings**  
theeflowerchild

part one

* * *

"This is impossible," she finally decided, falling gently to the ground off the groomed, white stallion. Her pale-pink skirt fluttered to her knees, revealing white pantyhose, black boots worn with time and the lace bottoms of pantaloons that she had no shame in hiding. "I will never learn to ride a horse. I cannot. I _refuse_."

Ignoring the blood that had settled on his cheeks at the sight of his young mistress' undergarments, he focused on the task at hand. "Your highness—"

"_Sakura_."

"—Uh, Sakura," he corrected for the nth time, "Your thirteenth birthday is coming up much sooner than you'd like to think. It is your duty as future ruler of the Fire Country to ride your stallion."

"Tonton, she's so tall..." she mused, rubbing the ponytail of purebred, white stallion that had been forced upon her. "Sasuke-kun, it cannot be done."

He sighed, running a hand through his already mussed hair. "I think you forget, Sakura."

"What is it that I forget, Sasuke-kun?" she questioned, attempting to get onto the horse all on her own by sticking her booties into the hooks and pushing her weight as forcefully as she could, flashing the older boy in the process, once again.

"You've got to stop doing that, your highness," he explained, ignoring her question for the time being. "It's very inappropriate and if your father saw you _flashing_ me, he'd probably throw me in the dungeon for the rest of my life."

"Oh, hush." She fixed herself onto the horse. Sasuke waltzed over to the reigns, holding the horse still as to not send the pinkette flying. "You did not have to do this when _you_ turned thirteen!"

"One, I am not a girl," he began, slowly moving the horse along the flat plain, careful to make sure the princess did not hit the hard ground. "Two, I am not royalty. My thirteenth birthday came and went, yours is very important."

She sighed dejectedly. "Why is that again?"

He rolled his eyes at the obvious question. "If you pretend to forget, that does not mean it will go away, Princess."

She cocked her head slightly, pursing her naked lips. "I believe in miracles, Sasuke-kun."

"I'm not surprised," he mused, dropping the reigns and allowing the girl to gallop on her own, only to fall to the ground. Rather than rushing to her side, he just rolled his eyes once again, strolling to the ground where she lay rubbing her bum.

"I told you I couldn't do it!" she screamed, tears forming in the corner of her eyes and a blush spreading across her chubby cheeks. "I told you!" Her arms fell to her side, a pout forming on her lips, only eventuating the fact that she was still just a child.

Sasuke sighed exasperatedly, getting down on his knees next to the young girl. He pushed her fringe out of her wet eyes, rolling his own in the process. "Big girls don't cry," he reprimanded her, brushing away the tears gently from her rosy cheeks. "And, as I was attempting to say, your highness, you have forgotten," he smiled softly, the corners of his lips only turning up slightly, "you can do _anything_."

Her pout deepened, but the blush on her cheeks did not falter in the slightest. "Not this, apparently!" She flailed her arms toward the sky in an act of surrender. "Sasuke-kun, what happens if I cannot do it?"

"Then all of the people who are coming to visit you will have come for nothing," he began to explain, helping the pinkette to her feet. "You must understand that many men are coming to see you turn thirteen from far away lands in hopes of catching your attention." Ignoring her physical protests, he lifted her from the ground, gently depositing her onto the horse and grabbing the reigns once again. "If you do not ride the horse properly and with all the grace you can muster, no man will look at you like the beautiful flower you are slowly becoming." She blushed feverishly at his compliment. "His and her highness have explained to you countless times that they expect you to marry off by the age of sixteen." They had started moving slowly, but surely, Sasuke calming the horse every few steps or so by tugging its mane. "You must not disappoint the other kingdoms, Sakura."

"But, if I don't do it, then I don't have to get married!" she reasoned, fidgeting uncomfortably on the horse's saddle. "Then I can stay here forever!"

He sighed exasperatedly, running a hand through his unruly head of hair. "M'lady, that reasoning is not sound. You _will_ be married off whether you like it or not, it's just a point of making a good first impression. You want to make a positive one, don't you?"

She thought for a second, trusting Sasuke enough to allow her eyes to wander to the sky rather than in front of her. "I guess I do," she decided.

"So, then, it's settled," he let go of the reigns, ushering the horse to move slowly. "You will ride the horse then."

She did not fall. "If that's what makes you happy, Sasuke-kun."

* * *

She was a complete and utter hit at her entrance, gracefully galloping in on the white stallion that her mother purchased from a far away land as a tradition in their kingdom. Her cream dress fluttered gently—she did not dare flash anybody this time around—, rose hair pulled back into ribbon curls that bounced accordingly to the steps of her steed, mouth painted pink and eyes lined black with charcoal. If she were turning thirteen, one could not guess, because a young woman was who rode into the field of green, impressing man upon man into relentless applause. All she could do was blush a pink that matched her taut lips and flutter to the ground daintily.

She attempted to avoid the crowd of people congratulating her, nearly running into the ballroom where her party was held. It was decorated with sophistication, a color scheme of maroons and ivories; surely a party a high-class kingdom would throw. The buffet was lined with many meats and rich vegetables, ready to be served when the tables were filled with those wishing to attack the princess with gracious compliments and marriage proposals so early in the game, ones she would ultimately refuse at the young age of thirteen.

The only person she could think to find when entering the ballroom was her the boy that went through hell and back for her in an attempt to not make her heart fly out of her chest due to cumbersome nerves. She found him leaning against a wall, nursing a goblet of wine and fidgeting with his ruffled jacket, obviously uncomfortable with his outfit choice.

"Sasuke-kun!" she stage whispered, rushing to his side gracelessly. "Did you see me!? How did I do!?" she questioned nervously, fidgeting with a ruffled hem on her dress.

He rolled his eyes, taking a long sip of the red wine stationed in his hand. "Of _course_ I watched you; I told you many a time, I wouldn't miss it for the world," he began. "You were lovely, your highness. You look very beautiful as well. Those paints suit you quite nicely; I am very proud." He offered her the largest smile he could muster, which may not have been much, but was surely enough for her. "You were breathtaking."

She blushed a crimson that rivaled the wine in his goblet, a grin surfacing on her face in return. "Thank you, Sasuke-kun, I could not have done it without you."

He shook his head. "Of course you could, your highness. Perhaps you just needed me for a slight push... And to help you up every once and a while when you fall."

She giggled, eyes lighting with mirth. "What will I ever do without you, Sasuke-kun?"

He pursed his lips. "Don't say such things. One day, you will make a man very happy. I promise you."

"Sasuke is right, you know," a female voice interjected. Sakura turned around to view her mother; a large-breasted, honey-haired woman dressed in a deep red, velor dress that fit her very nicely. "Which is why you must quit mingling with those that are constantly around and meet the boy you will one day wed, dear." She tugged her daughter's hand, thrusting her gently toward the dance floor before turning back to her help. "Thank you for everything, Sasuke. We'd be very much lost without your help. You may have tonight and tomorrow off, of course."

He offered a pleasant, polite smile. "Thank you, your highness, Tsunade, but that is not necessary—"

"It is of no problems to the kingdom that you should enjoy yourself every now and again, child," she chastised. "You are but eighteen-years-old! Please, enjoy yourself, eat the food and perhaps dance with a beautiful girl." She winked playfully, leaving him gaping slightly, and followed her daughter who had already caught attention.

"My name is Prince Kankuro of the Sand Kingdom," she overheard a voice say. Coming into view, she saw a boy with unruly brown hair and purple paints on his face, those of a warrior. "It is a pleasure to meet you." He took Sakura's hand, kissing it gently, politely, regally. "And this is my eldest brother, Prince Gaara of the Sand. He will be our King in the future."

A boy with a mess of red hair, large green eyes painted black with fatigue and alabaster skin worn with years of training stole the hand of the pinkette, softly kissing it in an attempt of impression. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Princess Haruno. You are as beautiful as they say."

She felt the blood rushing to her cheeks, but ignored it, curtseying like her mother had taught her. "Please, the pleasure is all mine, really. And do call me Sakura, if you do not mind."

"Not at all, Sakura." His lulling voice caught her attention more than most, dead eyes entrancing her, lips quirked slightly that made her heart flutter. "I must bid thee farewell for the time being, but I will find you later. We will dance, of course?"

"Of course," she confirmed, smiling ladylike, another thing her mother had taught her. "I will await the moment."

* * *

"Sasuke-kun!" she squealed, tackling the boy to the green ground and falling into a fit of giggles in the process. "I've been looking all over for you!"

"Your highness!" he yelled, sitting up. "You know better than that! At sixteen, you should not be tackling men to the ground!" he reprimanded, glaring—though she knew it was barely serious.

She waved him off with a hand. "Where have you been, Sasuke-kun?"

"I have been working, of course," he explained, gesturing to the garden. "Lady Hinata is sick, so she asked me to tend to the garden for the day. It seems the tomatoes are ripe and must be picked as soon as possible." He stood, dusting himself off, only to settle onto his knees again next to the fruit, face fixing into a position of thoughtfulness. "What do you need, your highness?"

"I was just hoping to spend some time with you!" She flopped down next to him in a comfortable position, careful not to flash her pantaloons. Each time she did, he just fought with her endlessly and claimed that her father would have off with his head. "Can I help, Sasuke-kun?" she pleaded, ivy-colored eyes widening with hope.

He sighed loudly. "Now, you know your mother hates it when you act like a maid, Princess—"

"Sakura," she corrected.

"Sakura," he repeated; even after years of being by her side, he still felt it fairly inappropriate calling her by her first name, but on the other hand, he'd do anything to please his princess. "Why don't you go study? Queen Tsunade only wants what is best for you."

She pursed her lips. "I've been studying all week and this morning before breakfast, too, though! Would you please just let me help? What Mother does not know will not hurt her." She got into the same position as the man next to her, gently brushing away the dirt that had settled onto her skirt from her past position. She offered him a cheeky grin. "Please, oh please?"

He sighed again, fingers flying to his temples in an attempt to relax himself. "Fine, but if your mother comes out and sees you doing this, you are to take full responsibility of your actions. Your mother may be a great Queen and lovely woman, but her fast temper always manages to bite me back," he explained. "Just like yours..." he mumbled as an afterthought.

"I heard that!" she exclaimed, looking at a particularly ripe tomato and plucking it from its vine. "But I will take full responsibility of my actions, like I always do, Sasuke-kun!"

"You do, don't you?" he questioned in an airy, detached tone. He plucked a few tomatoes from the vine and placed them in the basket in between them. "Why don't you get that one?" He pointed at a large tomato, rivaling the size of a small cantaloup.

Her eyes lit up. "Of course!" She grabbed it with greedy hands and set it in her lap, thinking for a second. "You love tomatoes, don't you, Sasuke-kun? They are your favorite food, are they not?" she inquired a little too curiously.

"You know they are, Sakura." He removed a few more from the vines.

She grinned wildly. "As your Princess, I command you to take this tomato!" she masked her voice with something akin to the powerful tone her mother used when asserting herself to other kingdoms or people within the castle. She thrust the tomato at him with a grin on her face. "Please put it beside you!"

He raised an eyebrow, trying to hold back a small smile. "Thank you, your highness. I will eat it graciously."

She giggled furiously. "It is of no problem! … As long as you pluck a strawberry for me," she added, pointing to the small patch slowly growing.

He nodded his head, searching for a plump, large one among the babies. When he finally found one deep within the patch, he plucked it and handed it to her. "Hopefully it's just as sweet as you, Princess."

She blushed fiercely at his comment, taking a bite of the overwhelmingly large strawberry before smiling softly. "It's even sweeter, Sasuke-kun, just like you."

* * *

A knock sounded at the door.

"Come in!" she yelled rather than getting the door herself, snuggled into a textbook focused on herbal remedies.

Sasuke opened her door with a small smirk on his face. "Your parents request you in the thrown room, m'lady." He walked over to her, sitting down next to her on the bed, something that would normally be deemed incredibly inappropriate. After years of being with the girl, there were nearly no boundaries between them—other than her pantaloons, of course, which the viewing of ran him ragged. "Somebody is here to see you."

"Who?" she asked, distracted and obviously not all that interested.

"A young Prince from the kingdom of the Sand," he began explaining. "A warrior no older than I, I believe. He seems anxious and has been speaking with your parents for a good sum of the morning. He only arrived when the sun rose."

"I see..." She flipped another page of the text, consumed. "Would you wait and walk with me, Sasuke-kun?"

"Of course." He stood from her bed, walking over to the floor to gather the books that lay strewn. Despite being more of a friend than anything else, he still had a job as her caretaker of sorts. He put the books back in their place. "You should learn to clean after yourself, Sakura."

She shrugged, slamming her book shut. "Why clean when it will just get messy again?"

"Your point proves valid, I guess," he decided, gathering a few pencils that also lay on the floor and placing them into their designated cup. "Your mother likes a tidy lady, you know."

"My mother likes a lot of things." She stood from her bed, fixing her gown and ridding it of wrinkles. She let down her hair from its ponytail, something her mother hated and found brash, and slipped into her boots by her closet door. "Do you know what she wants?"

"I can't say I do." Such a lie; he could only presume that the Prince wanted what the Kingdom was hoping for and what he was dreading.

She smiled. "Well then, shall we find out?"

He nodded and ushered her out of her bed chambers. "Remember not to fidget, your mother hates that," he reprimanded as they began setting off toward the throne room. Her boots clicked lightly against the stone floor, eyes wandering to windows that they passed. She'd much rather be outside gallivanting or riding her steed that she'd grown to love than stuck, cooped up in her room studying. "Use your speech lessons to the best of their abilities, be polite, do not twirl your hair and most importantly, pay attention to your mother's wishes, would you?"

She rolled her eyes and nodded her head, waving him off slightly. "Yes, of course, Sasuke-kun. I am not a mule, I know how to act civilized."

"You could have fooled me," he teased. She pushed him gently away from her, giggling lightly. When they finally approached the designated room, he held the door open for her as always. "After you, Princess."

She entered the room to the view of her parents, sitting in their emerald thrones, dressed properly with crowns on their heads, two boys that she remembered from her birthday party many moons ago, dressed in their best garments, faces painted and swords at their sides and an older woman with sandy, blonde hair and a gown, all sitting at her parents feet.

Her mother was the first to speak, a warm smile on her face. "Sakura, we beckon you closer, of course. Do greet our guests."

She nodded warily, taking cautious steps toward her parents thrones, Sasuke in tow. She curtseyed when she approached them, offering a polite, warm grin that her mother had taught her was proper. "Welcome to our Kingdom, Prince Gaara, Prince Kankuro and Lady of the Sand."

"Temari," the woman offered.

"Lady Temari," she took graciously. "What brings you here?" she questioned, eying her mother to make sure she was fulfilling her wishes correctly. She received a nod and a wink.

"Princess Sakura," Gaara began, stepping forward. "It is more than lovely to see you again; you are as beautiful as ever." He gathered her hand in his large, calloused one, bending in a low boy and kissing it gently. She blushed furiously. "How are you on this beautiful morning that rivals your own?"

Sasuke nearly snorted.

"I am lovely," she replied, struck by his charm. "And yourself?"

"Much better now that you are here." The corners of his lips quirked up slightly in what could be taken as a smile. "I've come here on a mission of sorts, Princess."

"I safely assumed," she commented jokingly, charmingly. Her mother was so proud behind her. "What mission would that be, Prince?"

He took her tone as a cue for forwardness. "You see, Princess Sakura, you are of sixteen-years of age. I'm sure many a man has attempted to court you in all of your beauty."

She caught herself before she shrugged. "This is true."

"Of course it is. Any many would be lucky to be blessed with a woman such as yourself." He was on a roll. "I've traveled many moons to your castle in to ask for your hand in marriage, m'lady," he finally admitted. "It would be an honor to take you as my wife and Queen of the Sand kingdom and of the Fire. Together, we could bring our palaces as one and create a large reign and a beautiful world." He stepped forward and took her hand in his. "Would you do me the honor in thinking about my offer?"

She was nearly taken aback by the fact that he offered for her to think about it, rather than forcing the request upon her. She could almost feel her parents shaking behind her in anticipation. "Of course I will think about it, Prince Gaara."

He grinned a victorious grin. "Please, just Gaara."

"Of course, Gaara-kun." She smiled softly in reply. "Please, just Sakura, then."

* * *

"I am sixteen," she told him.

"I know that, Sakura." He raised an eyebrow at her in confusion. "What does that have to do with anything, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Why must I get married at such a young age?" she asked him, settling her hands into her lip and fidgeting. "I know many a lady who has yet to be wed."

"Quit fidgeting," he reprimanded her. He settled down onto the bed next to her with a sigh, putting an arm around her in a motion he knew comforted her beyond what he could understand. "You are a Princess, Sakura. A beautiful, strong, intelligent, lovely Princess who will one day rule the Fire Kingdom," he began explaining. "I strongly believe you can do this on your own, but that is not tradition... Your parents wish you to be wed and, as a Princess, it must be early in your life.

"You must understand, Sakura; it is nearly your job to get married and create peace within the many lands of this world. You will do great things, I know it, but you cannot do them by yourself. You need a support system, which includes your parents, your future husband, your future children and, remember," his voice settled into a whisper, "me. You will always have me."

"But what if I don't love him?" she whimpered, tears always settling into the corners of her eyes.

"You will learn to."

* * *

**This ended up being a loooot longer than planned, so I made it into a two-shot, haha. I always wanted to write a Prince/Princess story, so here it is. :)**

**Please review! I'll probably put out the next part in a week or two. Enjoy enjoy enjoy!**

**Peace.**


	2. part two

Gaara would come for many moons before he would receive his answer.

There were times when he was restless, accepting no sleep and nothing but a twinge of heartache and thoughts provoking him to _leave, leave, leave!_ There were times when he almost did—leave, that is—he would ready his stallion in the middle of the night, cranky from being woken of its slumber, settle himself in the saddle and make it, maybe, twenty feet before deciding _this is stupid, I have to go back, I need an answer or my family will be so ashamed._

There were times when he was ashamed of _himself_. What was wrong with him? He was very, very intelligent, maybe not as smart as her, but his mind was thought-provoking! He was handsome, or so he was told, with rusty hair, large green eyes and a strong stature meant for a king. He was pleasant, more-or-less, and had slowly grown into his skin from an unsettling young boy to a comfortable young man, with a warm, albeit small smile, a calm personality and a toned form and yet, he couldn't get the girl with the blossom hair, the heated heart and the fiery disposition to be his wife, to wed not only their hearts, but their countries in matrimony.

Every day, she would greet him for breakfast, offer him the tea she brewed for two and a cheeky grin, settle into the chair three seats down and dive into her eggs as if it were her last meal. She would then disappear into the study for hours upon hours, lost in books about physics and neurology and things he didn't understand and probably never would. She was provoking, beautiful, majestic like a stallion and everything a husband could want.

He was even summoned to leave three times to visit his family; they missed him and wondered why he'd yet to get his answer. He'd travel moon after moon just to give them the negative and run back to the girl who'd never love him.

Upon his third arrival to the castle, she was waiting patiently by the gates, dressed in a pink summer dress that hid everything but her slender arms, mouth set in a grim line, book by her side and emerald eyes wide with _nothing nothing nothing._

Perhaps this was it, he thought, she'd finally give him an answer and he could go on with his damn life, but that was untrue, of course. All he received was a greeting and his mind went into a flutter—it was her mother, of course, who forced her to stand outside, interrupt her reading and greet him, something she obviously did not want to do, and it made his heart _burn_ and _scream_ and _hurt hurt hurt—_and he passed by her, like it was nothing.

Only to turn around a moment later in a fit of rage. "Miss Sakura, may I have a word with you, please?" he stated as calmly as he could, but she caught the fire in his eyes.

"Gaara-kun, of—of course," she stammered and took the hand he offered.

He stalked off toward the garden, nearly dragging her behind him, and ignored the looks that the paupers and maids around the castle cast him. He was, finally, on a mission—a mission that would probably end his time here, end his time with _her—_and stopped when they were in a space in the garden free of servants, free of maids, free of paupers, free of gardeners, free of parents, free of _Sasuke-kun Sasuke-kun Sasuke-kun!_ "You owe me an explanation, Sakura."

Her pink eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "I do believe I owe you nothing, Gaara-kun."

So she did know what he was talking about. "I have waited here a year-and-a-half, Sakura, _that's over a year—"_

"Yes, I know what a year-and-a-half is, Gaara—"

"Do not interrupt me," he cut her off, eyes suddenly a forest green, his voice forceful and unfamiliar, piercing through her heart like knives. "I have waited _far_ too long to say this. Sakura, I am falling for you, I think this has been established. It is very rare when royalty is lucky enough to fall in love with a person they _actually have a chance marrying,"_ he was very angry, she could tell, flustered and confused and he looked so young and helpless, "I want to be with you, to build a home with you, to father your children and love you until we are old and have many pets and learn your favorite foods and wake up to your pink hair every morning and give you as many books as you want," he explained in one, harsh breath. "So... let me."

She had become teary-eyed. "Gaara, I—"

"I can wait no longer, Sakura, dear," even he had begun tearing up, to her surprise, "I would like an answer, please don't put me through this any longer."

She bit her bottom lip to fight back the unrelenting tears. "Gaara, _please_."

He nodded his head, gathering himself into the posture he was taught and offered her a watery smile. "I understand," his voice was suddenly so soft, the one she was used to. "Thank you. I'll be on my way."

One step turned into two turned into full-on running and suddenly he was at the gate before he heard her scream. _"I'll marry you!"_

And somehow, he did not taste victory just yet.

* * *

**heartstrings**  
theeflowerchild

part two

* * *

Sasuke wasn't born into the most privileged family in the world, not in the slightest.

His father was nothing more than a merchant; he sold weapons, the best, so the income was stable and, as far as he can remember, his father was happy: a nice, older fellow with a warm smile, but a stern reprimand. His father knew everything there was to know about weapons and taught him all he could, and Sasuke was interested, in both learning about the proper usage of different swords and impressing his father.

His mother stayed at home and cared for the house, his elder brother and him. He'll never forget her cooking; she made the most amazing onigiri and dango even _he_ would eat, despite his opposition for all things sweet. She was kind, loved to garden—a skill he picked up from her, though rarely admitted to loving just as much as weaponry—and never passed an ill phrase about anybody; the forest-covered town they dwelled in held a certain fondness for the woman.

He had a brother who dreamed only of serving for the imperial army of the King and Queen of the Leaf Kingdom; he was smart, well-mannered, equipped with looks that made all the town-girls swoon and, though incredibly quiet, was kind and cared for Sasuke more than anybody or anything else in his world.

Sasuke was a happy child, with a bundle of friends, a lovely family and a smile that could light up the Sakura festivals of the spring, but that candlelight was fiercely blown away one horrible night.

His entire village was brought to death upon the whims of a tyrant down in the Southern kingdoms, with a body like a snake and eyes that could kill more than any sword could dream. Each man, woman and child was slain by sword and warrior in the most vicious way imaginable. The stronger men would merely snap the necks of the children and woman while senselessly stabbing and maiming the men and teenage boys. His brother had stowed him away under their home and took each and every blow for his parents; he died a warrior. When Sasuke came up that morning, he found his elder sibling nearly torn to shreds, his corpse laying on the floor in a puddle of blood.

His parents were much cleaner, but murdered, nonetheless, his father on top of his mother as if trying to shield her and a sword stabbed through both of their hearts, left for somebody else to clean up.

The next day, the King and Queen came to visit the fallen land, the woman in near shambles as she fell to the ground in front of Sasuke and held her tight against her bodice. He was the only living creature left in the town, doomed to roam the world as the soul survivor of the massacre. He never, ever thought he'd see the sun again.

The next day, he met Sakura.

* * *

"Mother says I must wear white," she began, twirling a strand of pink hair between her pointer and middle finger. "But I'd _much_ rather wear ivory... It's prettier, don't you think, Sasuke-kun?"

He sighed deeply. "I think you will look beautiful either way, Princess," he explained, digging his hands into the garden. "Now, as I've asked you before, do you think your mother would be happy to see you out here? _Especially_ now that you are betrothed?"

"And, as I've explained before, do you really think I'd care?" She knelt beside him, careful to not show her undergarments, a habit she'd formed since a child and a blush she'd caused nearly a thousand times on the brunette beside her. She plucked a small, albeit ripe tomato an began examining it with wide, emerald eyes. "Why do you like tomatoes so much?"

He raised an eyebrow in return. "Why does it matter?"

She shrugged. "I guess I am just curious. What makes Sasuke-kun tick, hmm?" She giggled furiously, taking a bite of the tomato, followed by a long grimace, her face sour. "Disgusting."

"Bite your tongue, princess." He grabbed the remaining tomato from her hand and polished it off in his own mouth. "I enjoy tomatoes because... they are sweet, but they are surprisingly... tart, if you will, but not bitter. They are bright and add beauty to everything they touch, be it a salad or a pasta." He gazed softly at Sakura, unbeknownst to her.

She nodded. "They are a very pretty vegetable—"

"Fruit," he corrected her and she raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Part of such a sweet breed, but just another surprise, aren't they?"

"I guess so," she agreed reluctantly under his judging stare. "I... enjoy tomato sauce."

"I know." He smirked. "With little pastas shaped like bow-ties. It's your favorite, if my mind serves me correctly."

"It always does, doesn't it, Sasuke-kun?" she mocked before grabbing for the strawberries, plucking a few, sweet babies and slowly snacking on them. "Will you be at the wedding, Sasuke-kun?"

He began delving back into his work at the sudden question. "Of course, my lady; I'll always be there for you."

"Will... Will you join me in Suna, Sasuke-kun?" she questioned nervously, fiddling with her thumbs, a nervous-twitch she had picked up from one of the maids she'd grown up with.

"If you so wish it, Princess." He stood up and brushed off his pants. "Would you like to help me with the escarole, my lady? It's very hard, but you're a very quick learner."

She dropped the nervous fidget and smiled softly. "Of course, Sasuke-kun."

* * *

They had set the wedding for mid-March, Sakura would turn seventeen ten days later.

The cherry-blossom trees would be in full bloom, blossoms littering the spring grass, vast across the meadows of the kingdom. Flowers would grow tall among the greens, all different colors blooming, like reds, yellows, pinks and blues. The sun would burst from the cerulean sky, not a cloud in sight, despite a fluffy, cotton one—for ambiance, of course—and not a breeze to bare. It would be perfect, her mother told her constantly, with the approval of her husband-to-be.

Her king.

Every day would be the same; she'd wake up no later than nine o' clock, ready herself for the dreaded day to come, then stumble into the kitchen to eat a healthy breakfast with her fiance. He would leave her when she was halfway done to practice his swordsmanship in the gardens and she would leave her half-eaten breakfast to disappear into the libraries. She'd manage to, always in the most coincidental manner, run into Sasuke-kun, they would stalk off to the garden to pick tomatoes and strawberries and escarole and, now that he'd taught her, fresh watermelon. They would talk: about fruits, about schooling, about weddings and dresses and food and maybe even a little gossip among the maids, and he would tell her how beautiful she is, how smart and talented and deserving of the world she is.

And she would linger on every word like a bear to honey.

Then, he would walk her back to the castle when darkness began to fall and the moon began to show its face; he would join her for dinner, as he always would and then walk her to the thrown room for a discussion with her mother about weddings and red-headed-boys and children, even. He would wait for her outside of the double-doors, patiently, and then see her to her chambers for sleep. They would talk comfortably for longer, afraid to let go, but not a single, implicating word would be exchanged. They would talk like the best friends they were.

Sasuke would leave and she would stare at the wall, perhaps weep in confusion at what they were, who she was and what she (they) wanted to be.

* * *

The kitchen table was already set with food when she had made her way to the dining hall. Dressed in baby-blue—Sasuke-kun's favorite—and hair pulled back in a messy braid, she looked just as beautiful as ever.

Gaara, per usual, was taken aback. "Good morning, lovely Sakura. How has the night treated you?"

"Fairly," she replied, finding her seat across from her. "And yourself?"

"Well," he agreed. "It will be much better when we are finally able to share bed, don't you think? We will both sleep easier when in each others' arms."

There was a chorus of "awe"-s from the group of maids cleaning the cart of rubbish.

Sakura smiled weakly, nodding nervously. "O-of course, Gaara-kun," she stuttered. "If you'll excuse me, though, I'm not quite hungry today. I came to simply bid thee good morning."

His smile fell slightly, but he nodded. "How kind of you, Princess. It is lovely to see your beautiful face, as always."

She held down her blush; always a sucker for kind words, she was. "Thank you, Gaara-kun. I will see you at dinner, enjoy your training," she offered and rose from her chair.

Once she thanked the maids for completing their duties, she began her trek off toward the library—at least half an hour earlier than usual—to, perhaps, get some work done, something nearly impossible for her on some occasions.

The minute she saw Sasuke, she knew she wouldn't be getting anything done. "Good morning, Sasuke-kun. What brings you here?"

He lifted himself from the book he had delved into, seemingly a novel about weaponry. "Good morning, my lady. You are quite early."

She shrugged. "I don't really have a routine, anyway. What brings you here?" she asked again.

He sighed, shutting his book quietly and giving his full attention to the pinkette in front of him. "I figured I would get some reading done, like every other morning, and yourself?"

"I wasn't hungry."

"I bet Sir Sabakū was quite upset, no?" he inquired softly, not to stir anything. "Is there anything you find unsettling this morning, Sakura?"

She sat beside him rather than across. "That's my name, isn't it?"

He smirked, noticing the flush in her cheeks and the warmth in her stare, albeit her face blank. "You've always liked it when I called you that, since you were little, right?"

"Right," she agreed. She sprawled her fingers on the book he had left on the table in front of him, reading the title and nothing Sasuke's idea of leisure reading. "Weapons?"

"Ah, weapons." He sprawled his fingers gently on top of hers, earning red on the tips of her ears in reply. He nearly smiled. "They've always interested me, you know."

"I did know that, actually." She snatched her hand away cautiously, not to offend him. "You like to garden, too."

He flushed slightly, retracting his own hand. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Sakura."

"I know you a lot more than you'd think, Sasuke-kun," she explained earnestly. "I pay attention, Sasuke-kun, I always have. I care about you."

"Ah." He stood, tucking in his chair. "Will you be gardening with me today, Princess?"

"It's Sakura," she corrected. "Why don't we just stay here for today, Sasuke-kun? Please?"

He rolled his eyes. "I have duties—"

"I am one of them, am I not?" She pushed a lock of pink hair she had been twirling behind her small, flushed ear, a nervous habit he noticed immediately.

He nodded. "I guess you are. If you would like me to stay, I will, but you will be the one answering to your mother if she gets upset. I will not refrain from throwing you under the carriage, Sakura, dear." He sat down beside her once again, laying the book gently on the mahogany. "Is there something on your mind?"

"No," she answered quickly, then bit her lip, correcting herself, "You."

He raised an eyebrow in genuine confusion. "I beg your pardon?"

"You," she repeated. "I remember when we first met, Sasuke-kun."

"What's bringing on all this reminiscing, Sakura?" he questioned, sincerely curious. "I'm not going anywhere, you know. There's no need to look back on..." he thought for a second, "the good old days?"

She laughed. "You were the prettiest boy I had ever seen, so dirty and broken. I never did find out why my mother had taken such a fondness to you, not that I'd ever question it... I'm so very lucky, Sasuke-kun."

He clicked his tongue against his teeth, thoughtful. "I'm very lucky too, Sakura. You are..." he trailed off for a second, color flushing to his dainty cheeks. "You are one of the best things to ever happen to me."

She didn't even flinch. "Is that so, Sasuke-kun?"

"Do you know anything of my past, Sakura?" he queried.

"Do I _need_ to know anything of your past?" she countered. "It is what made you, Sasuke-kun, but it is not you."

"You are very philosophical today, aren't you, Sakura?" he joked, the sort-of tenseness of the situation lifting to a comfortable air. "Such a smart girl, you are."

"I know," she teased back, flipping a lock of pink hair behind her shoulder with a giggle. She offered him a small smile. "Thank you for staying with me, but if you'd really like to garden, I won't stop you."

He shook his head in the negative. "There is no place I'd like to be other than right here, beside you."

* * *

The date approached quickly, something Sakura expected.

Suddenly, it wasn't January and the snow was starting to melt into a cool February, hearts littering the kingdom to celebrate the coming of St. Valentine's day. The fires were still burning in their places, smoking blowing from the chimneys and polluting the air with smells of burnt wood. Wedding plans were made nearly every day, invitations were being sent out across the lands, dresses were chosen and flowers were being planted to harvest for the day.

"In one month, Sasuke-kun, this will no longer be my home." She sighed loudly, cradling her chin in her palm and leaning against the table. "These will no longer be my books."

He laughed gently, sending an unannounced shiver down her spine and causing a smile to tilt on her pink-painted lips. "I'm not surprised that it is the books you will miss the most, Sakura."

"They mean a lot more to me than I'd like to admit, Sasuke-kun," she ousted, and then added, "among other things."

He did not push on the subject. "Do you think you are ready?"

"Is anybody ever ready?" she countered, easily. "Perhaps I am a pessimist, but I am not looking forward to the eighteenth of March."

"I think you will make a beautiful bride, Sakura," Sasuke began with a weak smile. "You will make Gaara very happy; you have touched many people in your life and I like to think that Gaara is almost undeserving of you, but that's not really my place to say, is it? It is my duty to tell you that you will be happy and I will always be beside you."

She held back a dry laugh. "And yet, you tell me anyway."

"It is my duty to be honest as well... I'm torn," he offered, honestly, something she'd gotten used to recently.

In the months between the acceptance and the wedding, if Sakura thought she was close to her _Sasuke-kun _before, their relationship at that moment must have been unexplainable. Perhaps it was the short amount of time she truly knew they had together, the amount of time they had to speak honestly, earnestly and heart-breakingly to each other was coming to a close and they would only have these little moments between breakfast and duties to share together in a library they'd visited since she was a little girl.

She, too, was torn; they both knew where they stood, never to mince words or truly share their feelings with one another. "Sasuke-kun, can I be frank with you?"

"I'd rather you not, Princess," she knew he used the proper name to hurt her or take her aback. "But when have I ever stopped you?"

"I don't want to marry Gaara," she told him bluntly, albeit softly. "In fact, it is the last on my list of _things I want to do."_ She always found a way to add comic relief to the situation, much to his abatement.

He sighed exasperatedly. "Sakura, either way, you're going to have to get married; you are a Princess, you cannot just simply _not_ marry."

She allowed herself to let out a dry laugh. "Now, I _never_ said that I _don't_ want to get married."

It took him a second to realize her words; she was always such a cunning, confusing girl. "Sakura, please—"

"Please, what?" she cut him off, beginning the argument they had almost weekly. "Sasuke-kun, I understand this may not be the _smartest_ thing in the world to speak of, but you can't keep trying to _stifle_ me—"

"I can and I will." He stood from his chair, quickly pushing it into the table. "I have duties to attend to, Sakura, please, enjoy your book—"

"Sasuke-kun," she ground out his name through gritted teeth. "Sit, _please_." It was not a command, but a plea.

He removed the chair once more, sitting comfortable next to her, taking in her familiar scent, like every morning, every seating, every day since he can remember. "We do this at least once a week, Sakura. Please do not put me through this."

"Put _you_ through this?" She almost laughed. "Why am I the _only_ one who wants to be honest between us, Sasuke-kun?"

"Now, you know that's not true—!"

"It's true," she corrected him. "It's absolutely true. You're right, we have this discussion every week and, perhaps, it means _nothing_ to you, but all I've _ever_ been trying to _tell you_ since the first day that I saw you is that.. I'm totally in love with you," she finished with a huff, cheeks blazing red and emerald eyes flaring with nervousness, but relief.

It felt like _finally_ to him. "I... I..." he stuttered, cheeks the same color as the girl's hair. He stood. "I cannot reciprocate the feelings."

"Cannot or _will_ not?" Her lips fell into a grim line. "Sasuke-kun..." she began correcting her tone. "Do you love me, Sasuke-kun?" she questioned softly.

"I cannot, your highness," he repeated. He sighed loudly, in disappointment, from what she could tell.

She nearly rolled her eyes. "I didn't ask if you could or could not," her voice fell to the stern, sure one her mother had taught her. "Do you love me, Sasuke-kun? Like I love you?"

He pursed his lips and, for once, was completely honest with himself, with her. "More than anybody will ever allow you to know."

Her heart fluttered viciously in her ribcage. "You will show me then, won't you?"

He blushed furiously. "Sakura, I can't—"

"You will... You want to." She pondered for a moment, her eyes resting on the beautiful face she had loved since she was a little girl. The face she had questioned for hours in her chambers, what was he to her? "Not here, though. You will meet me after dinner in the third guest chamber in the Fire Wing; at seven o' clock, the maids are across the castle. Cross the gardens, do not walk halls, and fall into the end door surrounded by the roses."

He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off once more. "This is not a command, nor an obligation... It is an offer. Your answer will be your showing up." She stood gracefully, pushing in her chair and offering him a polite smile.

He watched her walk off, heels clicking against the marble floors and felt himself smile; what a woman she had become.

* * *

When the finally, finally, _finally_ kissed, he felt like he was alive again.

He thought his life had been perfect just meeting her, but now that she was his, her heart was his, her soul and even her body, he'd never felt more alive in his short, twenty-one years of life. This pink little thing that he thought saw him as a brother-figure... She was his.

He never got tired of her kisses; her lips were always warm, tasted of all things sweet and gave him chills he never thought he'd feel. His heart would always flutter, his mind would race, his knees would turn to jelly and butterflies would race through his stomach, leaving him breathless and red-stained from the tips of his ears to the height of his cheekbones.

He got some sort of satisfaction in stealing her first kiss, her first live and her first time only weeks before her wedding to a boy he'd hated from the start. He had to hide the smirk he wore every time the three of them were in the same room.

Or, worse, just Gaara and him.

It wasn't until a week before the wedding that he realized, no matter how much he loved her, kissed her, claimed her body or her heart, spent time with her, expressed his feelings to her, it didn't matter.

He had lost.

And there was nothing he could do about that.

* * *

**FIN?**

* * *

**WOWOWOW what a cliffhanger, right? I'm kind of a bitch. Anyway, that's the end. Maybe I'll make an epilogue if I get enough reviews or whatever.**

**Please, leave reviews, let me know what you think, it helps me improve and makes me happy! Even if it's just a "good job" or "ewwwww." Let me know if you want an epilogue, too. :)**

**Peace.**


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